


Babysitter

by wisia



Category: DCU
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-23
Updated: 2012-12-23
Packaged: 2017-11-22 02:06:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 691
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/604626
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wisia/pseuds/wisia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tim doesn’t need one, but he gets Bruce Wayne anyway.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Babysitter

**Author's Note:**

> For Miss Pro

Tim was sixteen. He was sixteen and a would be college grad if his mother didn’t insist on him advancing at the same rate as his peers. He was a prodigy for god’s sake, and right now, he definitely did not need a babysitter.

                “You just love to torture me,” Tim grumbled as he leaned against his mother’s desk.

                “I do not,” Janet cut him off curtly. But her smile was deep and wicked. “It’s part of being a mother.”

                Her eyes were critical as they examined Tim, taking in the upturned collar and messy hair. Her mouth went tight as Tim added more weight to his lean against the desk. He was positively slouching.

                “Do stand straight. He will be here in ten minutes.”

               “I will flay him and make him cry,” Tim promised as he fixed his form. A faint smile decorated Janet’s lips in approval.

                “I expect nothing less of you.”

                “Couldn’t I have stayed home alone?” Tim wondered out loud. Because a buffoon, and he was surely going to be stupid, was going to be his…his temporary caretaker, Tim decided on. It was less degrading.

                 Janet raised an eyebrow. “Absolutely not, and do stop complaining. It’s unbecoming.”

                “I’m sixteen. I’m supposed to complain,” Tim shot back.

                “And I suppose I’ll need to ground you in return,” Janet countered in a way too airy tone. Tim paled immediately. His mother’s punishments were less than refined and more than creative. It almost pained him to remember even one. He blocked them all out.

                “I’ll behave,” Tim acquiesced with a disappointed sigh.

                “Good.” Janet stood up abruptly. “Fix that collar and we’ll go down and greet the man.”

                The caretaker was late. By an exact fifty four minutes. And it was so irresponsible—Tim was going to take delight in troubling the man for the week. Except the man was not at all what Tim was expecting.

As it was, Tim was speechless. Because Tim did not know how Bruce fucking Wayne wrangled himself into his parents’ good grace for this.

                “Call me Bruce,” the man laughed as his dark blue eyes raked over Tim’s body with a devilish delight.

                “I rather not, Mr. Wayne,” Tim responded icily. His mother was still watching after all. Bruce laughed again.

                “Please,” he said. “Think of me as an older brother—you can even call me Brucie.”

                That was one fantasy but—

                “No,” Tim refused. “You are here to be a caretaker and only that.”

                The amusement was clear as Bruce picked up one of Tim’s hand without warning.

                “I can definitely take care of you. In many ways in fact.”

                Tim shot a look at his mother, but Janet hugged him making the glare pointless. Tim had the feeling she probably knew because mothers know everything. She was pinching his cheeks like she did anyway.

                “Be a good boy, Timothy. And thank you again, Bruce. We’ll see you in a week.”

                “You’re welcome. You and Jack have fun now.” Bruce’s face sported a disturbingly large beaming smile. Tim glared at his parent’s retreating backs before turning to Bruce. He eyed him with a cold stare before turning on the balls of his feet to the stairs.

                “I’ll be in my room.”

                “Great, I’ll join you!” Bruce closed the front door.

                “Ugh, just drop it.” Tim groaned. Brucie was infuriating, contrived for the media.

                “I thought you like me acting this way, Tim.” Bruce’s voice was low and teasing.

                “You are not allowed in my room,” Tim swore. “Especially since you didn’t even have the decency to tell me you were listening to my complaints.”

                “It’s called a surprise.”

                “You’re an idiot.”

                “Your mother helped,” Bruce said and followed Tim up the room. Tim groaned again. That confirmed it. His mother knew. Knew about his way older idiot boyfriend. It was a shame his mother didn’t slap some sense into him. She had a very good hand.

                “I’ll make it up to you,” Bruce said and pressed him against the wall.

                “I’m sure you will,” Tim retorted dryly.

To Tim’s embarrassment, they didn’t leave his room very much for the next week. 


End file.
